Home Is Where the Spark Is:Trial Run
by SNeptune21
Summary: Transformers Animated episode 4. As the Autobots settle in to their new home in Detroit, an old foe is awakened and seeks his revenge in the form of a small pocket-bot. -Critique is greatly encouraged-
1. Nighttime Excursions

**Home is Where the Spark Is ~ Trial Run **

Night is thick and penetrating in Detroit. Somewhere deep within its' towering skyscrapers, a clock tower tolls the early hours of morning.

_Dong…dong…dong…_

Suddenly, the sound of a large engine starting is heard. The source is a slate-grey armored van pealing away from the Detroit National Bank, no doubt carrying countless thousands of dollars within its' thick walls.

The massive vehicle speeds down the empty street and pulls up to a red stoplight, idling, with its' passengers unaware that a lone figure stands atop a nearby business complex with a confident smirk on his masked face. Now, the sight alone of a single person standing on a six-story building at three o'clock in the morning might be rather odd; but the fact that his clothing not only consists of mint-green tights and forest-green smock-his costume also includes a large bow and cache of arrows, rather obsolete in 2058 Detroit.

Seeing his opportunity, the Robin Hood-esque figure removes what resembles an arrow, sets it in his bow, and with a gleeful shout of "Tally-ho!" he fires it at the armored van.

Mid-flight, the "arrow" suddenly sprouts the ends of a magnet on either side of the blunt metal head and attaches to the top of the van with a clang. Using a rope which was attached to the "feathered" end, the archer ties the other end to a nearby fire escape ladder and slides down on his trusty "wooden" bow.

Just as he lands on the roof of the vehicle, the light switches to green and the forward motion of the van pulls the magnet-arrow away. Letting loose another "arrow", this one again attaches to the roof of the vehicle, and with the use of a collapsible laser, makes quick work of the thick metal and creates a large circular hole, revealing two bewildered SWAT team members.

"Stand and deliver, old sport!" the green-clad thief cries.

Before either man can react, two bronze fist-shaped arrows have them pinned to the opposite wall, both unconscious from the impact. Five more rope-arrows quickly snatch up the beige moneybags and return to the one whom fired them. The Robin Hood impersonator swiftly ties them about his waist like some demented skirt of cash-bags.

"Forsooth! The Angry Archer is victorious!" the villain announced.

Sirens suddenly wail behind him, and the Angry Archer is alerted of the close presence of the DPD. Backing up a few steps and scanning his fast-moving surroundings, a means of escape suddenly presents itself as a red, white and blue fire truck, approaching from the opposite lane with sirens blaring, lights flashing, and beams on high.

With all the experience of Robin Hood himself, the Angry Archer lets loose yet another magnet-arrow onto the top of the oncoming emergency vehicle. As it zooms past, the Archer turns with it, sprouts small metal wings from his quiver, and glides after it like a human kite. Upon landing on the truck's hood, the masked man let forth a chortle and declared to the open air, "Victory is mine! Yon police would ne'er stop a fire truck from speeding to an emergency!"

But to the robber's surprise, a deep and smooth voice replied, seemingly all around him, "Only one problem with _that _theory…" The brakes suddenly screeched against the pavement below, causing the Archer to lose his footing and balance. Momentum had the thief flying uncontrollably off the front of the truck, and with a yell, he fell to the earth again unceremoniously with a grunt.

Gears whirred, metal clank-et and clang-ed, and joints re-aligned as the truck transformed.

"…_you're_ the emergency."

The shaken Archer turned to face his unknown foe, only to meet what looked like metal feet. Fear evident on his masked face, the strange man looked up…and up…and up… and what met his eyes would be imprinted there forever. Looming above him was a robot, but not just any robot; oh no, it was much too advanced to be the work of Sumdac Systems, that he was sure of. It had the same coloring scheme as the fire truck; red, white and blue, like some leftover Fourth of July parade prop. A massive barrel chest tapered off to a slim waist and long legs, and powerful apelike arms angled out, his hands resting on his "hips".

Dumbstruck, the Angry Archer had no time to react when the large truck-robot suddenly bent down and grabbed him up, as if he were no more than a child's doll. When his mind suddenly caught up with time again, the Angry Archer found that he didn't like being handled like a mere toy, so he began to struggle to free his arms and commanded "Unhand me, metallic ruffian!"

After a few seconds, his arms and bow were suddenly free. Taking advantage of what little opportunity he had, he swiftly let loose a grappling arrow and sent it flying to the nearest streetlamp. The gears started to pull him free of the metal giant's grip, so with a cheeky grin, the thief turned back to him and said "Tally-ho and fare thee well!" before he suddenly slipped from the trucks' grip like a bar of soap.

Energon axe pulled from subspace, Optimus Prime reeled back and promptly let it fly through the air. Tumbling end over end, it sliced through the rope of the fleeing villain before embedding itself in the asphalt with a crash of echoing thunder.

Having found himself kissing the ground for the second time in two minutes, the strange robber leapt up with a loud growl of frustration and fired an arrow. Anticipating the attack, Optimus dodges the volley, which flies past his shoulder and causes a car behind him to explode. Quickly putting out the fire with a well-aimed blast of anti-flame foam, Optimus turns back to face his opponent only to notice he is fleeing down the street. Two bolas are swiftly released from his forearms, which cycle through the air and entrap the running man.

After crashing to the ground with yet another pain-filled grunt, the captured thief is picked up by a single rope, left to dangle like a small fish on a line.

"Oh vexing fate, thou art a harsh mistress! I was to be rich, I was to be famous!" the Archer yelled as he thrashed and wiggled.

Police sirens wailing and camera-bots whirring overhead, the momentary hero simply replied,

"Looks like you'll just have to settle for famous."

~*~

*Well, that's it! This is the OFFICIAL first file I have uploaded on FF, and like the title says, this is just a test run. I don't really plan on continuing the episode beyond this little opening scene. For those of you who braved my (as Henry Masterson would say!) n00b-ishness, I applaud your courage!

-3 Kalee*


	2. Daytime Discoveries

**Hey! It's me again! If you read my profile, (which you probably haven't) then you already know that I decided to finish the entire episode. **

**I have three reasons why:**

** 1.) I couldn't leave it hanging unfinished. Something in me just squirms at the idea of leaving someone hanging.**

** 2.) Writing it will give me experience with how the characters think, feel, and "sound" on "paper".**

** 3.) It will bring me one step closer to being a beta, which I am looking forward to. **

**So…enjoy! **

Sunday morning found Prowl in uptown Detroit: O'Neil Park, to be precise. Having already arranged his living space in the run-down factory, he decided to explore the city in the hopes of finding _something_ that would pique his interest…

…Probably _not_ the best idea, considering the circumstances.

The Starscream/ All Spark incident had only happened a couple of weeks prior, and the nanobots not even a week before that. Needless to say, Detroit's "brave band of heroes" was the talk of the town, the state, the country, and even a few of the more up-to-date countries overseas. So, of course, reporters and camera-bots within a hundred miles were having a field day, scrambling to get at least a _glimpse_ of any of the Autobots they could. Even during their volunteer cleanup work after the Starscream Incident, they were constantly swatting at the things like they were bothersome flies. But who could blame them? They were giant alien robots with technology and intelligence that makes poor Sumdac Systems seem insignificant.

Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly, depending on how you look at it) very few actual reporters came near.

But hey, they didn't complain.

Even though not many were speaking up, humankind still had questions that it wanted answered. Like _'Where are they from?' 'How did they get here?' 'WHEN did they get here?' 'How long will they stay?'_ and on, and on, and on. This, combined with the ever bolder-growing reporters, made quiet exploration next-to impossible… but there was one question both Autobot and human alike wanted answered.

'_How different are they from us?'_

Prowl was trying to discover that for himself.

He had stumbled upon this quiet little park one day while helping reconstruct a damaged overpass. It hadn't seen direct exposure to the All Spark's power like some of the others had, but the flying debris and earthquake-like rumbling of the fight had done enough.

So, whenever he had a spare moment, or it just struck his fancy, he came here. It had become a habit for him to simply find a dark area of the park, get comfortable, and observe the daily routines of all who passed by. Once, he had tried an experiment he was curious about. He had wanted to test the humans' ability to notice the things around them. He had come early in the morning, and stood next to the statue of an organic named "Andrew Carnegie".

For _six hours_ he did not move, did not speak, and did not make any noise whatsoever. He was so still, in fact, that a flock of pigeons thought he would make a better stoop than the perfectly good statue next to him. Life carried on all around him, and no one seemed to notice the twelve-foot tall robot standing among them. It was only when an Autobot fanatic happened to pass by that anyone realized he was there.

He had learned a lot that day: not just that humans are very unaware of both themselves and the things around them, but also not to allow pigeons the opportunity to roost for too long on one's body. The sticky white goop he found on his head he quickly surmised was not something to be desired, judging by the disgusted looks on the peoples' faces.

So on this early Sunday morning, after dodging a few dozen camera-bots, Prowl snuck over to his favorite spot in the city, and climbed a tree.

Not every day you get to see an alien robot climb a tree, is it? Not that anyone actually _saw _him do it, but nonetheless seconds later there he was, arms crossed and hanging upside-down by his knees (or what counts for them) in a giant organic deciduous tree.

At the moment, he was studying a small sunshine-yellow bird, no bigger than the centerpiece of his chevron. It had been flittering around the park for the last ten minutes, and decided that the branch just level with his head was perfect to rest on while it twittered and whistled to its' companions elsewhere in the park.

It truly did create quite the racket, and as it did it would flutter and rustle its feathers, as if to show off it's almost painfully bright plumage.

Funny, it seemed rather similar to a certain bot he _wished_ he didn't know back at the factory.

Subtle movement on the ground near the tree line caught his optics. A small organic creature was gracefully slinking towards his tree. Upon diagnosing its features and physical characteristics, the spying Autobot came to the conclusion that it was a feline, or cat, as it was more widely referred to. It had reached the base of the tree, and was now appraising the large structure with wide green eyes. There was careful calculation in those eyes; intelligence he could identify with.

This was a hunter.

The small black and white creature bobbed its' head slightly, then after a second of hesitation, tensed its' muscles and darted up the tree. A few seconds of branch-hopping later, and it was only a couple feet away. One last soundless calculated leap later, and it was on the birds' branch slowly creeping up behind it. The small bird either was ignoring it, or did not know it was there; Prowl tended to think the latter. With every careful step, there was purpose, precision, and planning.

Finally, the graceful creature was only a step away from being directly on top of its intended prey…and it stopped, lowered its body, and closed its eyes. It even went so far as to start purring, making little "mraws" in contentment.

The bird had finally noticed the danger it could be in, but at the unimposing and uninterested demeanor the feline gave off, simply ignored it and went back to its twittering.

This went on for a while, and the small annoying bird seemed to forget that the cat was there. But, just as the bird seemed to decide to flit off to another tree, a single white paw shot out and pinned its tail to the branch. The bird was squawking indignantly and frantically flapping its' bright wings, and the triumphant hunter seemed to almost be smirking in satisfaction.

Prowl gasped. He had been just as surprised as the bird- not by the hunt, but by the suddenness of the action.

"Fascinating…" he murmured.

Suddenly, bright flashing lights and clicking noises jarred him out of his reverie. The cat and bird both made swift getaways, quickly forgetting that just seconds ago, one was about to eat the other for breakfast. Looking down (or up, from his perspective), he realized two camera-bots had snuck up on him, and a single young man was staring up at him in awe.

"Hey everybody, look over here! It's one of the Autobots!" he shouted.

People of all sorts quickly rushed over, lobbying to get a glimpse of the strange Autobot who climbed trees for fun.

"Which one?"

"Oh, cool!"

"I wanna see it!"

"Lemme see, lemme see!"

His cover was blown, he was tired of the paparazzi, and frankly he had nowhere else to go, so he resigned himself to returning to the factory. Growling his frustration, he pulled himself back up into the tree. By now, there was a sizeable crowd below, and Prowl was feeling quite cornered. Quickly surmising a diversion was needed, he utilized his holographic projector and sent his doppelganger launching out of the tree, transforming, and jetting across the park into the small forest. A large portion of the crowd broke away to give pursuit and see where his copy was going. Those who remained simply shrugged their shoulders and shuffled away.

When only an elderly couple remained, he silently slid down the tree and shot into the woods, no more than a whisper in the wind.

Well, there ya go! H.I.W.T.S.I. part deux. Please leave a review, even if it's mean, cuz I need all the criticism I can get! I feel like I may be getting "too many big word-ish" as my friends say, but I won't actually know for sure unless you (points finger) review.

Thanks for reading,

Kalee


	3. Welcome Home

After delivering the costumed thief into the hands of the DPD, Optimus Prime continued his route through the city. Considering the events of previous disasters, the officers of Detroit's finest agreed to allow the Autobots to assume a round-the-clock watch of the streets for any "alien" disturbances that could possibly occur. Only one 'bot was needed per watch, leaving the others to relax and organize the factory. Midnight to early morning was Optimus' set time, with Bulkhead taking up mid-morning, Bumblebee from late morning to midday, Ratchet in the afternoon, and Prowl from evening to midnight.

With no noticeable "alien" activity, Optimus (and the others) often assisted the DPD with other small disturbances, such as break-ins, electrical emergencies, fires, and general crime, which was a common occurrence in the large city. Thus, they became the people's unofficial super-heroes, fighting crime and defending the city from destruction (when they weren't the cause of it).

Sometimes the strangeness of it all baffled the Prime, making him wonder how they had managed to go from spacebridge lackeys to revered heroes.

_Hero. _He flinched at the word, both physically and mentally. The memory of his dishonorable expulsion from the Autobot Academy and the loss of two good friends- one to death, one to resentment- was still fresh in his processor. His mentor's disappointment hurt him more than any blow a Decepticon could ever hope to deal him, and his own shame damn near crippled him. Every time he was called a hero, his processor would almost automatically correct the title, making it so that what he was doing didn't seem so surreal.

It almost didn't seem fair. The humans, although similar to themselves, were quite weak and primitive compared to the power and sophistication of Cybertron. To the humans, they were amazing, incredible, and akin to minor gods. To their fellow Cybertronians, they were average, everyday citizens-hardly discernable from any other bot. What right did they have, from a Cybertronian perspective, to be considered worthy of praise?

Driving along the Detroit streets, Optimus often asked himself this question and others, letting his processor drift.

That's not to say he didn't pay attention- time just goes awfully slow when you're simply waiting for something to happen or go wrong.

When his shift finally did end, he returned to the factory just as the sun was beginning to turn the sky soft and opaque. Even in the early hours of morning, there was life and movement within, signaling the continued effort to make the dingy and rundown factory more comfortable. Optimus drove in and transformed into his bipedal form, alerting the others to his arrival. 'The others' being Ratchet and Bulkhead- Bumblebee was no doubt still recharging, and Prowl was most likely in his room meditating or…doing whatever it was he did in there.

Currently, Bulkhead was attempting to set up 'central command', which was essentially a rag-tag jumble of vid screens and control panels. Back when the factory was operational, this was apparently where all commands were given to the various construction machines. Most of the valuable and working technology had been scrapped and stolen long ago, so not much of it was left when Sari presented it to the 'bots. Luckily, Professor Sumdac was so grateful to the Autobots he allowed them virtually unlimited access to his tech stores, stating anything they might possibly need they could use at their will (within reason).

Not far off, Ratchet was constructing a temporary energon storage container, only to be used until they created a more child-safe apparatus. Sari made it a habit to come over to visit at least twice a week, and they didn't want her to accidentally (or otherwise) come into contact with the potentially dangerous substance.

Strolling over to Bulkhead, Optimus could hear a steady stream of grumbling issuing from the inside of the control panel. Leaning over his hunched frame, Optimus spoke to the source of the mumbling.

"I can take it from here, Bulkhead," said the Prime. The grumbling stopped. Suddenly, Bulkhead's frame straightened and he looked over his right shoulder.

He shrugged. "That's O.K. boss-bot, Prowl said he was gonna cover for my shift."

Optimus blinked. "Really? Where is he?"

"Already gone." He replied.

"Oh…

"Hey Prime, could ya lend a bot a servo?" Ratchet called.

…And so the morning progressed. Bumblebee eventually emerged from his room and added his own servos to the group. At the moment, Bumblebee was helping his Prime install a massive flat screen television to the local cable system. He was also, at the moment, wondering why Bulkhead wasn't holding the enormous television and HE was organizing the furniture. Optimus' voice jarred him out of his thoughts.

"Our new home is coming together nicely."

_Whump - _Bulkhead adds a cement couch to the living space. From the looks of it, the large bot must have rescued the piece from the rubble of a destroyed building or bridge.

'_Come on, come on!' _Bumblebee mentally begs. His frame is shaking and complaining from the weight of the flat screen. _'My specialty is speed, not strength!'_

Ratchet, at the moment bent over in front of the screen, has the plug in his servo that leads to the T.V. "If I had it my way, we'd never leave!"

His vocals dropped into an ominous growl.

"It's not safe out there. They're always watching…waiting…"

Finally seeing Bumblebee's discomfort, Optimus maneuvers the television onto their makeshift display. Slightly amused (and confused), he turns back to Ratchet.

"…the Decepticons?"

Ratchet rolls his eyes.

"No! Those annoying camera-bots!" he growls as he plugs the cable network into the television.

Appalled, Bumblebee cuts in. "What! No way, being a star rocks!"

The screen suddenly comes to life, with his own leader front and center holding his most recent capture, the Angry Archer.

Seeing this, Bumblebee continued, "If the titanium-alloy plating fits, wear it! And, hah, I make it look good." He boasts.

Bulkhead hasn't said a word since Optimus came in from his shift, and his processor has seemed to be on something else the whole time. So, when he suddenly pipes up and speaks, the others give him the appropriate attention.

"You guys got it easy." He says. "All people want me to do is break stuff. I got a sensitive side too, ya know!" he declares. He hesitates, then continues, "…but breaking stuff is kinda fun…" he chuckles.

'_Our new home is coming together nicely.'_ The statement has a new ring of truth in it. Everyone seems to be (in a way) content. Both amused and happy that his crew is doing relatively well in their new predicament, Optimus smiled.

Reminded of his early-morning ponderings, he replies to them all, "Either way, there's a lot to learn about this planet, so we'll just have to roll with it."

It seemed all were -at least- content.

The sound of a familiar jetpack had the four of them turning to face the skylight of the factory. Their own resident ninja-bot fell through the open window and landed with a crouch on the factory floor. Rising up from his crouch, but with his shoulders still hunched tensely, he marched out of the room with his only greeting an aggravated growl.

After his angry footsteps died down, Bumblebee smartly remarked, "I guess Prowl didn't get the memo about 'Rollin' with it'."

Yes, all seemed content…except one.


End file.
